Marcus and Didyme - A good story...
The sun glares down upon me. I rub my neck, wincing. My skin, I know, is bright red and peeling, and it hurts. Why ''did Mother send me out to pick corn today, when Ra is at its fiercest? Surely she knew of how Ra could burn and sometimes scar our skin? Did she ''care ''about any of this? Somehow I think the answer is yes, even though I am out here and my neck is bright red from Ra's fierce gaze. Mother cares about my brother and I, of that I am absolutely certain. She would not ask for something if it were not terribly important. And I suppose that because she has invited some friends of hers over for supper that this is rather important. I am supposed to pick corn, and my elder brother, Aro, is supposed to be helping Father with the fishing. I glance at the sun-dial hammered into the ground. It is not so far away from where I am standing, for the Pharaoh has ordered that sun-dials be put into the ground, one for every patch of vegetable. He is worried that if the sun-dials are not there, the cooks will not have his meals prepared in time. But, upon looking upon my own sun-dial, I am startled to discover that I have little time with which to pick the cobs of corn and to return to Mother. I force myself to work at twice the speed I had been working at before; and soon enough, my basket is full. I return to Mother, and she is happy to see me. "Didyme, you wonderful girl! I am so proud of you," Mother sighs, pressing me against her breast. "Is there a sufficient number of corn cobs?" I ask. "I could fetch you some more, Mother, if you would prefer." "You have picked enough, and more," Mother laughs. "Certainly, Didyme, there is no cause for worry now. Rest, child, and when supper is ready, you may eat as much as you like." I thank Mother and climb into bed. We have only one bed in our tiny home, and we all must fit in together. But, for the moment, the bed is empty, and I stretch my body across it, content to be away from Ra's harsh rays at last. Mother busies herself with cooking, and soon enough, our front door bangs open once again. I look up from the bed, and it is Aro, carrying a whole armful of fish. He offers the fish to Mother, and he heaves himself on the bed next to me. "Move aside, sister," he laughs, almost pushing me off the bed, "Make some room for your poor, dear brother." "I'll have you know, Aro-"I begin angrily, but the door opens again, and it is Father, his armful of fish much larger than Aro's had been. He gives some of it to Mother, and the rest he places inside a basket, where it will stay for a day or two, before it starts to smell. He then exits our house. Where he will go, we are not certain. Yet he cannot stay here; the friends that Mother is inviting over do not like Father. They are friends of the Pharaoh, and he does not like our family much. So it is only natural that these friends dislike our family as well. Mother is inviting them over in an attempt to gain Father some honour. I do not like her chances, but I do not say any of this to her. She knows it as well as I do. Soon enough, Mother's 'friends' arrive, and Aro and I are told to go off by ourselves-just for supper. So we go down and sit by the Nile. The water is cool, and I splash some of it on my sore neck. Relief is instantaneous. Aro, being Aro, strips off most of his clothes and jumps in, spraying me with water as he does so. "Aro!" I protest, half laughing, as I try and hit him, but my brother slides out of my reach easily. "You'll have to do better than that, Didyme!" Aro chuckles. He swims out to the middle of the river, leaping through the water like a fish-like he was born in the water. He is so childlike sometimes, though he is two years off being thirty years of age. He is not married, nor does he have a lover, nor does he live alone; the Pharaoh, with his intense dislike for my family, has forbade Aro to ever marry. But my brother sees it not as a punishment, but as a gift. He does not ever wish to settle down, he told me once. He wishes to be free, like the ibis. I admire Aro for this. He, though he is nearly ten years older than me, is the best brother. I love him dearly. "Are you afraid of the water, sister?" Aro's voice cuts the air like the sharpened blades the guards carry with them. "Absolutely not," I answer, wading into the water after him. Aro and I, we know almost everything about each other, but one thing he does not know is that I am terrified of the large, reptilian creatures that lurk in the deepest parts of the Nile. And they are exactly where my brother is now swimming. "You bore me so, Didyme," Aro chides, not seeing the ripple of water behind him. I stand, paralysed, as the ripple increases in both speed and size. It is racing toward my brother. "Come in deeper. The water is lovely and cool. Or are you afraid?" He taunts, holding out his tanned hand and jerking his index finger back twice- inviting me forward. "Brother!" I scream, as something rises up from the river, and it is terrible, its' skin as white as the moon, and its eyes as red as blood. Aro spins around, and the creature seizes him by the scruff of the neck, and it pulls him under the surface. Forgetting my fear, I race toward my brother, who is struggling with the white creature with the red eyes. It is a demon from the underworld. It cannot be anything else, for what creature has eyes like from the darkest pit of the underworld? I splash noisily towards the creature, as fast as I can. But I cannot swim very well, and so, though I am trying my best, I am still too slow. When I reach the area where the creature and my brother had been grappling, there is nothing. There are no ripples in the water. And there is no sign of my brother. I dive under the water, to see if perhaps he was pinned down by the creature, but I see nothing. I stand there, in the river, for many hours, unable to stop the flood of tears, as I wonder what I will tell Mother and Father. Time passes. In fact, many, many years go by, and I have a house of my own now, though no husband shares my bed, nor do any children fill the house with their cries of delight. My body feels twice the age I am, thirty- four years of age. Not a day goes by when I am not thinking of my dear brother Aro, who vanished at the age of twenty-eight, to be never seen again, at least not by mortal eyes. Though his body was never found, Mother and Father held a funeral for him nevertheless. Needless to say, not many people attended, though, surprisingly, Mother's 'friends' did. It is because of them that I now live alone, with a house larger than most. I no longer have to work for my food, but I am not content. I want to know what happened to my brother. I miss him so much. But how do I even start on this seemingly impossible journey? That is the most important question, I think to myself, as I lie down on my bed and stare at the ceiling. I have not bothered to draw the feeble blinds across my window, and moonlight floods over my motionless body. I cringe internally away from it, remembering how white that creature's skin was, and how its eyes glared at me, for a split second, before it dragged my brother down to his watery grave. Aro. If he had lived, he would have been- I blink; not at all sure that what I am seeing is real. The man who had seemingly died fifteen years before is now standing at the foot of my bed. "Aro," I gasp, sitting up, and I immediately wish I hadn't, for my brother's skin is as white as the moon, and his eyes...they are a deep red. The demon has entered my brother. Poor, dear, Aro; surely he did not deserve such a fate. "Didyme," The creature whispers, and there is so much love in that single word that I am confused. Could demons love? The thought had not crossed my mind before, because we had always been taught that demons were soulless monsters, and wished only to destroy. "Is it really you, Aro?" I demand, throwing my sheets aside and standing up. He appears to be no older than the day he disappeared, though I know this is impossible. He should be forty-three years of age! "It really is me, Didyme." Its' voice is soft, and gentle. "I do not believe you. You died fifteen years ago." I make my voice hard; I will not show weakness to this monster. "Certainly, it felt like I had died," it agrees. "The memory is fuzzy, but I remember how my lungs burned for air, as he held me down. The burning got worse; it consumed my entire body, until I was literally begging for him to kill me." It shudders. "But then, the fire disappeared, and I found that I no longer had any need to breathe." It smiles. "Your words are poison," I spit at it. "Nothing you say will convince me of anything." The expression of its face is devastated- so much so, that, despite myself, I feel myself reaching toward it, for some way to help. Its white hand touches my own, and I shiver. Its' hand is icy cold. "Didyme," it whispers. Then it is on me, and its teeth sink into my throat. I begin to scream. I am a vampire, and that is the truth. But the stories are not always true; I do not turn to ash in the sun, I cannot transform into a bat, or a wolf, or fog. I do not have to be invited inside a house to be able to enter. I cannot command a pack of wolves, nor can I fly. The sun does have an effect on me, though; my skin reflects the suns' rays, so I am lit up like a torch. Animals cannot stand to be anywhere near me. However; I can leap high enough that a mortal may think I am flying. I have not tested the sun; my brother, Aro, who had been transformed into a vampire fifteen years before me, told me this. He does not allow me out of the ancient stone building he has taken residence in, in a city called Volterra, in Italy. It is quite a far way from where I am originally from, Egypt, though I like it here quite a lot. Do I need blood to survive? I honestly do not know the answer to that question. I drink blood because I crave it. Yet I do not hunt these unfortunate humans myself; Aro has someone bring me my food. I do not mind, though I wish sometimes that I could hunt on my own. I am alone in this room, yet I am not unhappy. I reach deep within myself, and then, I am happy, so happy that I had my brother back at last. I had missed him so much! And now, he was here forever. He would never grow old, and he would never die. And neither would I. A huge smile creeps across my face, and I am sorely tempted to sing, but I hold it in. I settle instead for wrapping my arms around my brother, when he opens the door. He laughs and hugs me back, and then waves someone forward. It is a woman, with long mahogany hair and bright crimson eyes. Behind her are four humans, all of different races. "Dessert," the woman says, stepping aside so that the humans can enter my room. "Thank you," I say gratefully. The intense craving for blood had been becoming almost unbearable. The younger vampire curtsies before leaving. Aro watches me sate my thirst. "Sister," he says carefully, when I am finished, "There is someone I would like you to meet." "Who?" I ask, feeling so full of joy, which I simply ''had ''to share it with my brother. Aro smiles, all feelings of tension gone. He is as happy as I am. "His name is Marcus," he tells me. "I am thinking of appointing him my right-hand man." "He must be good if you are giving him such a high position." "He has many fine qualities," Aro agrees. "Come, sister." He takes my hand in his, and I can remember the days when it felt cold to me, but no more; we are the same, at last. He leads me down the stone stairs, down into the stone antechamber I had seen only once. There are many vampires in this chamber; one of them I recognize; the beautiful vampire with the long mahogany hair. I smile at her, and she smiles back, my happiness infecting her, as it had Aro. I do like my gift. I can make even the most depressed person overflowing with happiness within seconds. An unfamiliar vampire stands at the rear of the chamber. He is in his late forties, perhaps early fifties, at least in physical age. His hair is the colour of night, and it waves to his shoulders. His face lights up with excitement and anticipation when he sees Aro. He is eager to hear my brothers' decision on whether he needs him or not. "Marcus!" Aro crows delightedly, "I have someone here whom I think you should meet! Marcus, meet my dear sister Didyme!" Marcus turns to face me. "Hello, Didyme." I unleash my gift upon him. "Hello, Marcus." The years slip by. I have now been alive for many centuries. As I stare out at the beautiful moon, I cast my thoughts back, to that very first day, when I met Marcus. My love for him was instantaneous. I saw him, and, though many people were fond of me, purely because of my gift, I knew I was supposed to be with him, and, by the blessings of God, he felt the same way. We were married under the full moon by the river in Volterra, and the first time we slept together, my gift peaked and spread all over the city, and everybody was happy. As we returned to Aro, when dawn was breaking, many songs could be heard, the joyful feelings of the humans expressing themselves. I remember not being able to understand the words, but I enjoyed the songs nevertheless. The moon is not so different now; it is still just as beautiful, and its light washes over me, as I gaze down upon the city, and wishing that the songs were still being sung. That night, it had been so wonderful. ''Everybody ''had been overflowing with happiness. But things are different now. Aro, no longer content with having a glorious castle, has been attempting to control the vampire world. For the most part, he is succeeding. But there are still many, many vampires that walk this earth that wish my brother dead. This disturbs me, yet I can see where they are coming from; Aro's methods leave something to be desired. A few years ago, he destroyed a vampire by the name of Sasha, who was even older than we were, truly, an amazing creature. Yet Sasha, tired of simply having her three adopted daughters, decided to make a vampire out of a child who was barely two years of age, a boy called Vasilii. Normally, creating another of our race is perfectly- 'legal' seems to be the only suitable word here, as my dear brother has assumed the position of the law enforcer of our world. But the sole problem here, as Aro had put it, that these vampiric children had no control whatsoever; they could destroy an entire village in just one night; if they threw a tantrum. My brother told me how Vasilii burned in Sasha's arms, and the three daughters were pardoned, because they knew nothing of their creator's intentions. It saddens me that Aro should be so violent; yes, I understood why Vasilii had to burn, he was an intimate threat to the humans, but Sasha, if she had been pardoned as well, would never had made another Immortal Child. I believe in second chances, unlike Aro and his new addition, a white-haired male by the name of Caius. I do not like him much. He is too bloodthirsty, and his personality, I fear, is rubbing off on my brother, as he destroys yet more vampires, for reasons that could be easily pardoned. My door opens, and I spin around, fearful that it is Aro, or Caius. It is not. It is Marcus, my dear Marcus. "Marcus!" I throw myself in his arms. Yet I do not use my gift. Marcus sees I am upset, and he holds me tight, asking me what is wrong. I take a deep breath and tell him everything. He is silent, for the most part. He asks a question occasionally, and I answer it as best I can. His handsome face is rigid with concern. He strokes my cheek when I stutter through some of the more painful explanations. This is one of the reasons why I love Marcus so. He always listens to me; regardless of how ridiculous I may be at the time, he always listens. I tell him of how I feel about Caius's sadistic personality rubbing on my brother; how he was never quite so violent and bloodthirsty. I also tell him of how I felt about Sasha; how she deserved a second chance, yet she did not get it, and how her daughters had to watch, as both she and Vasilii burned. It is all too much for me; I begin to weep. There are no tears, of course; my transformation from feeble human to strong vampire has denied me such an act. Marcus holds me, until, at last, I cry no more. I stand up. "Marcus, my love," I whisper. "I cannot stand to see so much death, so much unreason." "Then, Didyme, there is only one thing we can do: we must leave Volterra. I cannot stand seeing you so unhappy." "You would do that?" "I would do it for you." Aro's expression is thoughtful, as he grasps each of our hands in turn and sees our thoughts. He holds onto mine longer than he does my husbands'. "You would leave us so readily?" He finally asks us. "I cannot stand to see my love so distraught by your actions, Aro," Marcus tells him, his face impassive. The vampire called Caius has the oddest expression on his face-I do not like it. I cringe away from him, and I press myself tighter against Marcus. Aro says nothing, though I can see that he is in pain at the thought of losing me, his sister. I feel I must say something. "Brother," I say gently. "This act does not mean I do not love you. I do, Aro, more than you can ever know. But I must leave this place, to be truly happy. Do you not want me to be happy?" My brother looks shocked. "Of course I do, sister," he says. "There is nothing I want more than to make you happy. If you must go, then go. You have my blessing, both of you." Both Marcus and I thank Aro, and, as my arms give him his last embrace, I cheer him up slightly. He knows this is not the end of me. I will visit. Aro's arms are hesitant, as they wrap around me and squeeze, for one last time. Then he steps back, and inspects me. He sees I carry nothing. "Are you not going to take any memories with you?" He asks, sounding a little hurt. "At least take one with you." By memories, he means souvenirs. I glance at Marcus. He nods. He sees that there is no harm in me returning to my room to collect a few, harsh memories of Volterra. He trusts Aro. "Just one, then, dear brother," I agree. Aro takes my hand and leads me upstairs, back to my room. The door across from mine is where Caius's lover, Athenodora, resides. Aro still has not found his as of yet. As soon as I am in my room, Aro slams the door, so hard that cracks run up the wall. He is more angry than sad, I see it now. "Didyme," he whispers. I turn. I was in the middle of picking up a goblet, made of pure silver. It has our crest on it. "Aro?" I ask. My brothers' face changes. All his warmness disappears, and he is a hunter. His nostrils flare. His eyes seem to glow with all the blood he has drunk, and all the carnage he has caused. His hands curl into claws, and they stretch toward my throat, almost eagerly. "Do not look," He whispers. I close my eyes. Marcus and I leaving, it was not to be. '''This is a FanFiction story by Vampire FBI. The FanFiction name for this story is Not To Be.' Category:FanFiction Category:The Volturi Category:Relationships Category:Character